Greg paused. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’

The small ward had four beds but only one had sheets and those were now strewn across the floor and soaked in blood. The dead men had been removed but Jameson could guess from the pools of blood where each had fallen: one just in front of where he was standing and the other on the far side of the bed.

‘How the hell did they both end up dead while Harry walked out unscathed?’

‘Incompetent idiots, I expect.’

Jameson looked around the walls then crouched low and examined the floor. ‘The weapons?’

‘Bagged for evidence.’

‘Any idea what they were firing?’

‘Handguns. A Sig Sauer and a Glock.’

Jameson nodded. A popular choice for your average tooled-up criminal. ‘And you have no idea who the deceased were?’

‘We thought they were agency staff with a full set of references. We’re looking into it now. One had been here since Monday but the other only started this afternoon because one of our regulars failed to turn up.’

‘So they got one of their guys in to scope the place as soon as Harry Peterson was moved here. And then they sent in reinforcements. I’d check on that regular staff member if I were you.’

‘You think he’s part of it?’

‘Or someone forced him to take a day off. Hopefully not permanently.’

How had Harry survived this? What had he done? Bloom had said that skills can remain despite memory loss because they’re stored differently in the brain. So perhaps Harry had defended himself. But, whatever had happened, it was clear someone wanted him dead. Which blew their previous theory out of the water.

33

‘She won’t tell you,’ said Bloom. ‘And it’s because she couldn’t stand to see the look on your face when you hear it.’ Harry turned to look at her. ‘But I’d want someone to tell me the truth if I were in your shoes.’

They were in a small side room with comfy chairs and a television. Bloom studied Harry: she wondered if there was something breakable there or just a very resilient soul. When he lifted his chin a touch, she continued. ‘Caroline left you. It wasn’t because you met someone else, but because she did.’

Bloom was pleased that Karene wasn’t there to see the pain move across Harry’s face. He took a deep breath and looked towards the corner of the room. ‘And who exactly are you?’

‘I’m Augusta … Bloom. An old friend of Karene’s from university. Marcus Jameson and I investigate unusual crimes.’

‘Private detectives?’

‘Of a kind.’

‘And what have you detected?’ There was an edge to his voice.

‘Mr Peterson … Harry … I believe someone may have made you forget something on purpose.’

‘Made me? With the bomb?’

‘More likely during the time you were missing.’

Harry frowned, narrowing his eyes. He opened his mouth then shook his head. ‘Missing?’